Queen of the Sylphs Read Online Free Page B

out so he couldn’t give any orders. Ril had fed from him, while Justin sat like an animal in a cage barely five feet across. He’d been rescued and his tongue regrown, but he hated Ril for what had been forced on them, as well as for Ril taking Lizzy.
    Ril hated Justin in return. The boy now had the ability to give him orders he couldn’t disobey. The boy had been warned, though: he was never to give the battler any sort of command.
    Leon walked forward. “What is it?” he asked, putting a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.
    “Lunch is ready,” Justin said. He dragged his eyes away from Ril. “I thought you and Lizzy would want to know.”
    “Thank you.” Leon turned. “Lunch, Lizzy.”
    “Great.” She came hurrying by, running down the steps and not once looking toward Justin. For all he’d come to Meridal to help rescue her, and suffered, she hadn’t forgiven him for abandoning her when she was first caught.
    Ril followed a moment later. He did look at Justin, his smile smug, and Leon knew somehow that he’d let the boy feel his flash of victory. Leon swore, and the battler blinked, his smugness faltering before he continued on.
    Leon turned back to Justin, not knowing what he could say that would make this better. He didn’t think there was anything. Justin was breathing hard, his face flushed and angry.
    “I hate him,” the young man gasped. “I hate him. I hate him.”
    “Let it go, Justin,” Leon urged. “Please. For your own sake. It’s not worth it.” He tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder.
    Justin turned and followed the other two. He had to work through this on his own, Leon knew. The best he could do was make sure Ril didn’t mock him anymore. If he had to, he’d order it. Justin deserved a little peace. He needed it, too. The boy had to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life.
    Gabralina had come to Sylph Valley without ever hearing about it. Born far to the south in the humid kingdom of Yed, she didn’t mind the change. Even if this place was far to the colder north, she could be with her battler Wat here, and no one threw vegetables at her or called her whore and murderer. She wasn’t one. She really wasn’t.
    They liked her in this town, and the people were kind. Gabralina had found work, too: helping the Widow Blackwell take care of the Valley orphans. Wat helped guard. She had been rescued in more than one way by Leon Petrule and Ril, not just from a trap for a battle sylph.
    She tried not to think about the past now, or about the reasons why she’d been set to be killed, but she did think about her dearest friend back home, whom she still missed. Once, she’d hired a scribe to write to her, telling her of her new life and love, and sent it in the mail that was just starting to deliver to the Valley. Every day afterward she checked for a reply. To her disappointment, no answer came.
    It was a long way to Yed, she had to remind herself, and her friend must have been in hiding after she left. The letter might never be read. It could also take months to get there.
    Gabralina walked toward the Widow’s house along the sidewalk from her tiny underground apartment, her fingers twined together before her. She was a stunning woman, her hair long and shiny as polished gold, her face round and smooth, her eyes seductive.
    Though she wore a simple brown dress, men stopped to stare. None of them approached her, though. She also wore a rawhide string around her neck, laced through a large stone ring. Like the battlers in their blue and gold uniforms, female battler masters wore necklaces to identify themselves. Gabralina was still taken aback by men not trying to get her attention, but she’d been told it had to be that way. Wat would be desperately jealous of any man who approached, and a jealous battler was a very dangerous creature. This necklace was to protect everyone else.
    Gabralina wasn’t so sure. Wat was a sweet thing and wonderfully energetic in